


Call Me Chuck

by leftdragonpainter



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Compliant, Cas is dead, Chuck Ships It, Chuck is God, Confrontations, Emotional Constipation, First Kiss, Hand Jobs, If You Squint - Freeform, Love Confessions, M/M, Post-Episode: s09e03 I'm No Angel, Sabriel - Freeform, Sharing a Bed, Suicide, Time Travel, but its okay, come out of that closet already, hinted - Freeform, seriously dean, time to find Chuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-17
Updated: 2017-02-10
Packaged: 2018-07-24 15:26:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 12,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7513432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leftdragonpainter/pseuds/leftdragonpainter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas is dead, killed by April the Reaper. Dean falls into a drunken spiral as he tries to deal with the loss of his friend and having to hide from his brother the fact that an angel is possessing him. A chance encounter with an unexpected friend sets things in motion that changes more than anyone expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos as always lovelies! Definitely been planning this one for a while now. hopefully you all will love it as well.  
> <3<3<3 Gabi

_Cas._

Castiel, former Angel of the Lord, the Angel of Thursday, was dead.

Dead.

The reaper bitch had stabbed him. So Dean had stabbed her.

Zeke couldn’t save Cas without destroying Sam as well. And Dean knew that there would be nothing stopping him from killing himself if his brother was also dead. So Dean had to make the choice between saving Cas and losing his brother, or saving Sam and forever losing the most ‘profound bond’ of his life.

He just prayed that wherever Cas was, he would understand.

*****

 

Not even pie or porn could fix this. Sam knew it. He knew that there was nothing that he could say or do to help his grieving big brother. And he _was_ grieving, no matter how vehemently he denied it.

Sam was feeling the loss too. Granted, not nearly as keenly as Dean, but he missed his friend. He was still unable to understand why Cas had left them in the first place. It hurt that they had spent all that effort trying to find him again only to walk in to see the former angel get stabbed through the chest. It hurt to have to watch his normally stoic brother break down, a screaming sobbing mess, and know that there wasn’t anything that he could do to change the outcome.

So instead he listened to the shots being fired in the gun range in the bunker at three in the morning as Dean drunkenly shot off his rage. Sam had learned quickly to avoid him when he was in this mood. He stared up at the ceiling, up at the dark and prayed to the deity he was finally beginning to doubt even existed anymore. “God, help him. Please. Just help him get through this because I don’t know how to. Not this time.”

***** 

They worked cases, a poltergeist here, a salt-n-burn there, anything that they could do to keep Dean occupied. To give him something to vent his rage on. Gadreel felt his anger, his rage that boiled just below the surface. If he could have done it over again, he would have at least tried to heal the former angel. At least then Dean may have been more lenient, more forgiving towards him. But he had been a coward. Again. And had lied to the elder Winchester about his capabilities to save Castiel.

He could have done it. He should have done it.

But he hadn’t and now he had yet another regret to add to the Everest sized mound in his grace that weighed him down for eons.

It wasn’t only his failures he was feeling. Sam’s unjustified guilt was a giant boulder that perpetually sat in his gut. He wished beyond measure that he had been able to reveal himself, to help Sam through his own struggles.

But that was far too dangerous, both to Sam and to himself.

*****

 

Months later Dean was losing himself in a bar close to the bunker. Losing himself in whatever cheap whiskey he could find. He had to resort to dives like the one he was in because Sam and Kevin had teamed up against him. Sam refusing to stock good booze, and Kevin removing the bottles that Dean snuck in.

He took another swig from the glass in his hand, staring absentmindedly at the creepy deer head mounted on the wall. He had the feeling that it was judging him. “Ah, whadda you know? You’re roadkill.” He mockingly saluted the animal before finishing his glass.

Just as he signaled to the bartender for a refill, someone sat down next to him in the empty bar. Really? he thought. The whole place is empty but this douchebag had the balls to… Dean glared, bleary eyed at the man. His eyes widened as he recognized the prophet.

“Chuck.” Dean nodded and waved at the bartender again.

“Dean.” Chuck studied him through surprisingly sober eyes. “Were you just talking to that elk?”

Dean frowned up at the animal. “Thought it was a deer?” he mumbled.

“Doesn’t explain why you were talking to it. What’s wrong man?” Chuck spoke gently placing a hand on Dean’s shoulder. He flinched, still feeling Cas’ handprint though it had long since faded. He swallowed back the tears rising to the surface. It seemed that lately every damn thought he had reminded him of the angel.

“Castiel is dead.” He stared at his tumbler a moment. Turning to Chuck he repeated. “Cas is dead. Heaven is closed. Angels are running around killing each other. How do you not know this man?”

“I’m not a prophet anymore. What do you mean Heaven is closed?” Chuck asked coldly.

“Closed as in closed. No admittance. For anyone. There’s more ghosts because even souls can’t get in.” Initially he had hoped that Cas would be one of them, but Dean knew that he would have been unable to gank him if he had gone vengeful.

“Sounds like your path as a the Righteous Man has gone a bit wonky.” Chuck reached for the tumbler of whiskey in front of him. He frowned. This wasn’t supposed to have happened to Dean.

Dean stood angrily. He gripped the counter to stop from falling over. “Don’t! Don’t give me any more of that Righteous man crap. I’ve had far too much taken from me already. When do I ever get to catch a break, huh? To have something good last? Do you see any of that in those visions Chuck? Did you see Cas get stabbed by a reaper?”

“Dean.” Chuck said softly. “He was sent to you for a reason. This wasn’t supposed to happen to Castiel. To you.”

“Yeah, no shit.” He wiped at his face. He could feel the tears start to escape the confines of his eyes. “Goddammit!” Chuck flinched. Dean looked at him, all light gone from his eyes as he finally admitted out loud, “I just miss him. Ya know?”

Dean was saved from making even more of a sap of himself as Sam walked in. The worried look on his face told Dean everything about how long he had been avoiding his brother.

“There you are! Are you alright? I’ve been to every bar in town looking for you.”

 _So have I,_ Dean thought. Nodding, he wiped away the remaining tears. Avoiding his brothers gaze, he turned back to the counter. He really didn’t want Sam or Zeke seeing him like this. “Yeah man. I’m good.”

Sam paused at seeing the bearded little man next to his older brother. “Oh. Hey Chuck.”

“Sam.” Chuck smiled at seeing the younger Winchester. He was glad to see that the demon blood kick was completely out of his system. In fact the giant man seemed almost… Chuck’s eyes widened as He fully saw what – or rather who – was within the hunter.

“Hold it! Hold on just one moment!” Waving his hands, he stood confidently. The moved seemed to surprise the pair. They had no idea. No one did. That was how Chuck had wanted it. But this, _this_ , was something He couldn’t turn a blind eye towards. Perhaps He had been turning a blind eye for far too long.

His favorites wouldn’t be hurting this much if He hadn’t.

“I can’t take this any longer. I’m gone for only how long and Dean here gets all angsty when his boyfriend dies.” Dean’s head snapped up. “Hey!” Chuck continued. “And Sam here is just clueless.”

Sam frowned, wondering what he may have said to bring this reaction on from their friend. “What? What are you talking about?”

But Dean knew. Somehow Chuck knew that Zeke was possessing his brother. Despite his inability to deal with his own loss, he wouldn’t allow anything to happen to his brother by filling him in on that little fact. He sobered fast, sensing the impending danger. “Chuck. Don’t.”

Chuck turned to him and smiled calmly. “It’s alright Dean. I promise that nothing is going to happen to Sam. And before anything else, you can still call me Chuck, but I’m actually God.”


	2. Chapter Two

“Okay. Yeah, sure. You’re ‘god’.” Dean channeled Cas, used air quotes, and smirked. Man, Chuck had a weird sense on humor. At least he was keeping his mouth shut about Zeke. “Geez man. How much have you had?” Sam laughed.

Chuck rolled his eyes. Snapping his fingers, he transported them all. It truly took far longer them the Winchesters could comprehend but having to try to explain quantum physics and transferring yada, yada… well, you get the gist. It was easier for them to feel it in a flash second of going from the bar back to the bunker.

“What the hell, Chuck?” Dean frowned. How much had he been drinking tonight? It was either too much or not enough. Shaking his head to clear it, he asked. “Where’d you get mojo like that?”

“Oh, Dean.” Chuck laughed and shook his head.

Sam’s large body straightened, eyes flashing bright as the angel took over it’s vessel. His face appeared to crumble at the same time his knees gave out. Bowing his head, the angel said. “Father.”

“Gadreel. We will be talking, eventually. Have no doubt about that.” Chuck’s mouth tightened as He looked down at His petulant child.

“Wait. What? Who’s Gadreel? That’s Zeke. Ezekiel.” Dean stepped in between them. Then he turned to look down at the angel’s bowed head. “Right?”

He shook his head. “No, Dean. My Father is correct. My name is Gadreel. I hid my identity from you for your own protection.”

“Are you even bothering to heal Sam, or was that all a lie too?” Dean shouted.

“I am trying to heal your brother. But as I’ve said before, the trials damaged him on a molecular level. It will take time.” Head still bowed, he clenched his jaw waiting for his punishment for escaping Heaven’s jail to come.

Dean’s jaw clenched. This all was far too much to process. Sam was still possessed by an angel but not Zeke. By someone called Gadreel? Chuck or _God_ or whoever was extremely disturbed by this. Dean didn’t want to be around when He chose to unleash His wrath.

“Can you bring Cas back?” Dean whispered in a small voice the way a hurt child would in prayer. He kept his head lowered, not wanting to see Chuck’s face when he refused.

“I can’t. Too much time has already passed.” Chuck regretted not getting into contact sooner with the Winchester’s. Perhaps if… He chuckled as He realized. Just because He was God, didn’t mean that things couldn’t slip His mind. “But… There may be a way to save him.”

Dean lifted his sandy blond head. The lines on his forehead deepened as he gazed hopefully at Chuck. At God. Who’da thunk it? “What do you mean?”

“As I told you earlier Dean. Cas was sent to you for a reason. Now the question is, what would you be willing to do, to give up in order to bring him back?” Chuck crossed His arms, twerking an eyebrow.

“Anything.” There was no hesitation in the answer. There was no need. The despair that had filled his chest, drowning him these past months was beginning to drain away. The small hope that Cas could be saved…? It was almost too much for Dean to breath in that moment but he had to.

Gadreel remained silent throughout the exchange. He wanted to flee but now that his Father knew he had escaped when the angels fell, there would be no place in the universe that he would be able to hide.

Chuck stepped closer to Dean. “I can send you back. Back before Cas was killed. You will have to help yourself once you get there though.”

“I thought messing with the past was impossible. That destiny or whatever crap always has a way of proving itself?” Dean frowned.

“You really need to clean out your ears. I just told you that Cas was sent to you for a purpose. He wasn’t supposed to die. Not stop delaying. You ready?” Chuck grinned.

“Uh…” Before Dean could utter another syllable Chuck laid a hand on his arm and everything went white.

 

_Six months earlier…_

 

Dean’s head snapped up as something crashed in the library behind him. He had been busy researching a way to reopen the gates of heaven. Not that he was having any luck. It wasn’t as though the Men of Letters had a How-To on all things Heaven. Sure they had plenty on the Regurgitating Practices of the Wendigo of New Zealand (not much cause for that one in Kansas) but there wasn’t much else he could be doing at this point.

Sam was still laid up in his room, utterly drained from the trials. Though there was an angel within him, attempting to heal him from the inside. Kevin was trying to translate what was left of the Angel Tablet, working closely with Crowley who was chained in the dungeon.

But now, of course something else had to happened to pile on top of all that. It was the Winchester way after all. When things looked hopeless, let’s add more shit to the pile.

Dean turned around, shoving the chair away. His body tensed, preparing for a fight from the unknown threat. He didn’t have a weapon on him, he rarely did in the bunker. Dean step faltered when he saw the man laying unconscious face up on the floor.

“Shit. Not this again.” Dean ran a hand over his mouth and sighed as he stared down at his double.

 


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean talks to himself.

Dean groaned. His head was pounding. He was pretty sure his was still a little bit drunk. Why hadn’t Chuck waited until he was at least sober-ish before tossing him back through time? Rolling onto his back, he raised a hand to his head, rubbing his temple.

“You better start speaking before I start stabbing.” Dean spoke above him.

“You’d only be hurting yourself.” He lamely attempted to joke. Dean opened his bloodshot eyes and focused on the sword blade inches from his nose. “Put the sword down, man. I’m not a shifter or demon. You know I wouldn’t have gotten past all the traps if I was. I’m you Dean.”

“Prove it. Tell me something only I would know. And not about Rhonda Hurley.”

“Fine.” There was only one thing that Dean could think of, and damn if it didn’t make his chest ache. “When we moved into the room in the bunker we left a drawer empty for…” Cas. He couldn’t finish the sentence but looked despondently at himself.

His slightly younger version blinked, his lips tightened but didn’t lower the weapon. Dean saw that he, literally, was at least listening. That was one thing he hadn’t even told Sam, though knowing his brother Dean was sure he suspected. “Keep talking.”

Dean sighed. “When am I?”       

The other man frowned and told him. It was three days before Cas would be killed. That meant that Cas would have been at… He frowned as he tried to remember. The underpass tonight? If they left now, they might have the chance of getting to him in time.

Dean felt some of the tension leave his body. Cas was still alive. He had time to save him. He got up off the floor, coming to stand in front of his younger self. “You going to put that sword away?”

Hesitantly, Dean nodded before placing the blade back on the display. He smirked at his older, drunken self. “So what? Cas finally get his mojo back and you piss him off so he sends you back into no man’s land?”

His smirk faded when he saw his –the other his- face. Pain, absolute heart wrenching pain that deepened the lines around his eyes, lines current Dean didn’t yet have. He was on the brink of crying. Though his bloodshot eyes told him he already had. A lot. _What the actual fuck_? “Uh, me? You gonna tell me why you’re here?”

Shaking his head he said, “No. Just get the keys to baby. Kevin can watch over Sam for a few nights. Let them know that you’re going on a hunt or something.”

“And where are we actually going?”

Sad green eyes met green clear ones. “To save Cas.”

 

*****

 

Dean looked over at his doppelgänger asleep in the passengers seat of the Impala. They were only an hour into driving to the destination that old Dean had given, yet there he was. Snoring. Dean wasn’t surprised though. It had looked like a fricking Mack truck had run him over. What the hell had happened in the next six months (frigging time travel tenses man) that had turned him into this sad drunken mess of a man? When the other him had told him that they were going to go save Cas, but Dean was wary. Cas wasn’t in trouble as far as he knew. At least he hoped not.

But Castiel is dealing with being powerless while staying under both Heaven’s and Hell’s radar. Dean had to remind himself. It had been Cas’ choice to stay away. Cas hadn’t wanted to bring more trouble to the Winchester’s lives. But when wasn’t there trouble?

His future self was adamant about saving Cas. So Dean had told his older self to sneak off into the car while he made up a story about a case that he was going to look into alone. Kevin had nodded and went back to deciphering the angel tablet. Though Dean was certain that the moment he left it would quickly shift to watching porn. Advance placement his ass.

Sam on the other hand wanted to go with him. There was no way that was happening. “Nope. Simple salt-n-burn man. You just rest, and annoy Crowley. And for the love of all that is holy, would you do something with that hair?” Dean had joked as he swung his duffle over his shoulder. He left swiftly, leaving no time for Sam to try to convince his way into joining.

Unable to listen to his own thoughts or older-him’s snoring, Dean reached across the seat and smacked…himself. “Wake up. Now you’re going to tell me what the hell this is about.”

“We’re saving Cas.”

“You said that already.”

“Then why the hell are you asking me again?” Bloodshot green eyes flashed angrily. “You know damn well I’m gonna remain tightlipped about this.”

“Fine.” Dean pursed his lips and turned his gaze back to the road. “You know, between the dream walking thing, and douchebag angels sending me into alternate futures, I’m getting really tired of talking to myself.”

“Yeah, I know.” He huffed out burst of air, halfway between a grunt and a laugh. He sat quiet in the passengers seat for a while, long enough that the other him thought that he had fallen back to sleep. He hadn’t. Frowning, he turned his mind over where Cas was in that moment. “We should probably get some food.”

Startled by the random statement, Dean glanced over. There was a hard, yet thoughtful expression on his stubbly face. “What? You hungry or something?”

“No.”

With nothing further than that to go on, Dean sighed and wondered why all future versions of himself were always assholes. Light of passing cars flashed across his face as he continued to drive. There was a store just up the road they would be able to stop at just before they got to the bridge. Dean knew himself well enough to know that he hadn’t just mentioned that for no reason. There was always a reason.

He was afraid he had guessed what the reason was.


	4. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay. Please don't hate me. I tagged this was going to be angst-y didn't I? But necessary for plots and things. (I'm sorry)  
> Comments and Kudos are always appreciated.

Shopping had been interesting. They were in and out fairly quickly, old him rushing around getting a much canned food as he could carry. The only exception had been the fixings for peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. The were able to pretend being twins to avoid any unwanted questions by the clerks.

Once the supplies were stowed away in the back seat, present Dean got behind the wheel. He sat for a moment, refusing to start the car. Turning to the other man, he said gruffly. “It’s time to tell me what this is about, uh, me. So start talking.”

The other him sighed in resignation. He didn’t want to but he knew that it was necessary. Chuck help him if he started crying again. _No. You aren’t going to cry, you’re here to change that. Remember?_ “Fine. There’s good news and there’s bad news. Which do you want first?”

“Surprise me.”

“Found God. It’s Chuck fyi. I know. Weird right? I’m not even joking, I wish I was.” Dean glared at himself before past him could start laughing. “He was the one who sent me back. Bad news numero uno,” he held up his hand finger, counting. “is that the angel that is healing Sam is not Ezekiel. The dick’s name is Gadreel.”

“Like the elf queen from _Lord of the Rings_?” he interrupted.

“That’s Galadriel. Idiot. Good news here is that the dick is actually helping Sam. Now for bad news number two.” Here Dean paused, his throat working as he swallowed down his feelings. Now was not the time to cry. Again. He was too close to stopping it all from happening.

“Well?” he was prompted.

Looking his younger, happier self in the eye, unblinking said as unaffected as he was able. “Cas is dead.”

“What?” Dean’s heart fell. This can’t be happening. He swallowed down his emotions, like he had for years, barely getting out the words. “You’re lying.”

“Would we ever lie about that?”

They both remained silent, absorbing the truth of that statement. Night had started for fall, darkening the street around the Impala. Finally, Dean shifted and asked in a small voice. “When?”

Avoiding eye contact, he answered. “In a couple of days. Reapers are after him. He’s got a heavenly bounty out on him. They all want him brought in dead.”

Like hell that was happening. Angrily Dean revved the Impala’s engine.

“Then let’s go save our angel.”

*****

Within the hour they were less than a block away from the underpass when Dean parked the car. They both got out. Dean opened the back driver’s side door to get out the food. It took him a moment to realize that his twin had already begun walking over to the group of vagrants huddled around burning trashcans.

As much as he had missed Cas and how desperately he wanted to go run and get him in that moment, Dean let himself have this. That Dean had an extra six months on him in the Missing Cas category compounded a thousand-fold by the knowledge Cas was dead. He needed to find Cas first.

Dean’s stride was determined as he walked over to the group. If Cas wasn’t here he would be over in that abandoned bus, sleeping. Practically shaking, Dean stepped around a pillar and froze. There his angel sat, eating something straight out of a can. Hair greasy and even more out of control, a week’s worth of scruff covering half of his sunken face.

Tired blue eyes widened. Cas set the empty can down beside him. His new friend asked concerned. “You know this man, Clarence?”

Dean blinked, then raised a brow. “Clarence?”

Cas stood, remaining silent. His feet brought him within a foot of the hunter. There were wrinkles that hadn’t been there the last time he had seen Dean. He had aged. Always concerned for his friend, he placed a hand on his shoulder. “Are you alright, Dean?”

At the touch Dean broke. Taking a giant gulp of air, he pulled the angel into his arms. Cas wrapped his arms around his waist returning the embrace. Dean didn’t realize that he kept whispering the same two words repeatedly into his shoulder as he cried. “You’re alive. You’re alive.”

Someone approached them cautiously. Clearing their throat, said. “Hey, remember I get a turn too.”

Cas’ head snapped back as he pushed himself away from Dean. Then looked over at… _Dean?_ The one who had just spoke was smiling widely, completely clean shaven while the one who had just hugged him, was busy wiping his eyes. That one was the one who said, “We should probably talk somewhere quiet. You bring the bags?”

“Yeah, yeah I got ‘em, grump.” The clean Dean grunted then walked over to the men and women who were watching the entire exchange curiously. He began handing out the food they had purchased earlier. Turning back to them, he nodded in the direction they parked. “I’ll meet you back at the car.”

Cas watched as the other Dean began walking away. He frowned. There were two Dean’s. Perhaps one was a shifter? When he had had his grace he would have been able to tell at a glance what type of monster he was dealing with. But neither of the Dean’s seemed to be evil. They had both felt like Dean. Even in this weak, powerless human form he _knew_ Dean. And that had left only one option.

He followed the first Dean up the road to where the Impala sat, hoping to get some sort of explanation. He could hear familiar footsteps not far behind him. “Dean?”

He was surprised when Dean turned around and cupped his face. Even more surprised when he felt Dean’s lips on his. The kiss was messy, teeth against teeth, hot and passionate and over far too quickly when Dean broke away. Leaning his forehead against his angel's, he whispered. “I love you, Cas. Don’t you ever forget that.”

He stepped back and took the large knife he always carried with him out. He shot a glance and a wink back at the clean Dean before plunging the blade deep in his own chest.


	5. Chapter Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope I didn't tick too many of you lovelies off with the last chapter! Comments and kudos are always very nice to see after a 12-hour shift :)

They watched as the flames rose even higher, reaching almost desperately to the sky. Dean was making damn sure that this time he got the hunter’s funeral that he had been denied so many times before. Cas stood immobile beside him, staring at the flames.

“Why did he do it? Why would you do it?” Cas asked gravely, trying to understand.

_Why did future him kill himself? Or why did future Dean kiss Cas? ‘Cus he was a stupid self sacrificing bastard, that’s why._ Dean knew the answer to both questions honestly, but only one was easy to answer. And it was the only one he could bring himself to answer. “The timeline changed. I don’t think he would have been able to go back, and it would have been too complicated to stay.” Dean didn’t add that he was pretty sure that Dean had wanted to be with _his_ Cas finally.

Cas remained silent for the rest of the night. They stayed in the abandoned field until there was nothing left but ash. Finally, near dawn, Dean was stomping out the remaining embers when Cas spoke again.

“How did you find me? And why now did you come to look for me?” Cas studied Dean’s stiff shoulders as he stomped over to the Impala. Cas followed, sliding into the passengers seat. Cas turned to look at him, his expression so open. So _human._ When there was no response, Cas prompted him. “Dean?”

Dean leaned his head back against the seat, running a weary hand down his face. He was tired. Burning his own remains was an experience that he never wanted to repeat. All he wanted in that moment was a quick breakfast, an even quicker shower and a very long nap. But all that would have to wait. Rolling his head, he looked over at Castiel. “I’ve _been_ looking for you Cas. But the other me showed up yesterday and told me exactly where you were. Didn’t even hestiate to come get you.”

Cas narrowed his eyes. Even as a human he knew when the Winchester beside him was lying, or holding something back. “Dean. I know that there is more to all of this than just that. Talk to me.”

“Cas, can we just take a breather from this for a bit? Please. I need food and you are in desperate need of a shower.” Dean scrunched up his nose, waving his hand in front of his face in an attempt to lighten the mood. The joke fell flat when Cas blinked owlishly at him. “Come on, let’s go get a room.”

*****

A few miles outside of the pyre they used, they found a rundown motel. After getting the last room available, they walked down the parking lot to the orange door. The best that could be said about the room was that is was shabby. Stained 80’s orange everything decorated the room, from the carpeting to the walls to the one bedspread.

One bed. Dean swallowed down the anxious ball in his throat as he took in the lumpy queen mattress. Throwing his duffle down on the table by the door, he told Castiel. “Go ahead and shower man. Help yourself to whatever’s in my bag to wear. I’m gonna go get something for us to eat.” _Ramble much, Wicnchester?_ Nervous and uncertain, he paused at the door and turned again to his long lost friend. “You are going to still be here when I get back right?”

Cas tilted his head and smiled. “Of course, Dean.”

Acting on auto-pilot, Dean went to get some food from the diner across the street. As he waited for the food, he called Sam. “Hey.”

_“Hey. So how is the salt-n-burn going? Need me yet?”_ Sam joked through the phoneline, yawning. Dean could tell that he had been sleeping only a moment before.

“Ah, it’s a piece of cake,” he lied. “Was just calling to check in to make sure you were eating your Wheaties.”

_“Yes, mom. I’m eating my Wheaties and my veggies too.”_ Sam laughed, then coughed into the line. Dean frowned. _“So when do you think you’ll be back?”_

“Oh, not for a little while yet. You know I’m not as good at the research thing as you are. Type slow.” Dean joked as he handed some bills to the cashier in front of him. Taking the bags of food, he started to walk back across the street.

_“You know, I could come…”_

“No!” Dean practically screamed into the phone, panicking. Sam couldn’t find out about Cas yet. He knew it was selfish, but he wanted some time alone with the ex-angel before having to share him with the rest of the world. Dean shook his head, even though his baby brother couldn’t see it. “No, Sammy. It’s not that I don’t want you here, because believe me I do. But all I need you to do right now rest and get better. Cus if you don’t, Imma kick your ass so that you’re laid up for a whole ‘nother year. _Capisce?_ ”

_“You know that makes no sense right?”_

“Sam…”

_“Alright, alright. Geesh. Don’t get your panties in a bunch. I’ll see you when you get back.”_ Without another word they hung up.

*****

Juggling the bags and room keys, Dean unlocked the door. His eyes shot around the room in a slight panic when he didn’t see Cas. He swallowed that feeling down, relieved when he saw that the ex-angel was already asleep on the bed, scrunched as far against the left side as could be. His hair was wet, so Dean assumed that he had at least taken the suggestion to shower while he got breakfast.

Shutting the door behind him, Dean took a steadying breath. There was really no logical reason to be nervous. None at all. He was just going to share a bed with his best friend, that’s all. That happens. People, other normal people did things like this all the time without freaking out. Right? Right. Nope no reason to be nervous.

Realizing that he had been staring at his friend’s sleeping form for a while with circling thoughts, Dean blinked and set the food down on the table. Sleep. He should sleep. Maybe then he would stop thinking and overthinking and over analyzing everything in regards to Cas.

He took care of his business in the bathroom quickly. Toe-ing off his boots beside the bed, he glanced down at Cas. The man was lightly snoring, completely out to the world. Dean had noticed earlier how dark the circles were under his eyes. He hadn’t been resting. _How could he have Dean? He had been homeless._

Dean shook his head. Well he wasn’t going to be homeless any longer. Castiel would always have a home with the Winchester’s. With him.

As gently as he could, Dean settled his still clothed body on top of the covers, trying not to wake the other man. But as soon as the mattress shifted, Cas shot up panicked. Dean sat up and reached around Cas, grabbing his left arm lightly. “Hey. Hey it’s okay. It’s just me. You’re safe. Just go back to sleep.”

“Dean?” he asked groggily, confused.

Dean rubbed his hand soothingly up and down his bicep, gently nudging him back to a prone position. “Yeah. It’s me, Cas. Get some rest. No one’s going to hurt you tonight.” Dean watched until Cas nodded reluctantly, then added in a whisper. “I’ll watch over you.”

He didn’t stop to analyze that his arm was still draped protectively across the other man’s chest when he fell asleep a few minutes later.

 


	6. Chapter Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay time to break up the angst a bit... and add a dash of smut ;)  
> Comments people! PLEASE! I need them more than I need coffee and if you know me you know I mean business here!  
> hugs and cuddles!  
> Gabi  
> <3<3<3

_Dean moaned as he pressed close to Castiel, holding the other man tight against his chest. The brickhouse shoulders shifted in front of him as Cas moved back. A slight wriggle of his hips made Dean groan into his shoulder. Dean pressed a hot open mouthed kiss there. He couldn’t get enough of the other man’s taste. A little salty, a little sweet and all Cas. Dean whispered into his ear. “I want you so much, Castiel.”_

_“Dean,” Cas panted out in a breathless whisper._

_“I want to make you happy, angel. I want to hear you moan for me, Cas.” Dean responded hotly. He moved his hand down the other man’s chest. When Dean reached the hem of the shirt, he snuck beneath, running his hand happily across the warm skin he found. The muscles of Castiel’s abdomen flexed under his fingers. Dean could spend hours touching Cas like this, no apocalypse to rush off to. Just the two of them exploring each other. Dean smiled, and began rutting against the ass pressed close to him. The smile widened as Cas rubbed into him._

_“De-an.” He whined._

“Dean. Dean wake up.” Cas’ deep, slightly aggravated, baritone broke through, waking Dean suddenly.

It seemed that his body had felt the need to act out the dream as it happened. Dean’s arm was flung over Cas’ chest while his hips continued to thrust slowly against the former angel. Dean stopped the movement immediately. He was panting, heart racing as hard as it would after running a marathon. Not that he would ever do that. That was Sammy’s thing.

Don’t think of your baby brother now. Dean felt his morning erection start to deflate behind the metal zipper of his jeans. No. Wait. That’s what he wanted right now. That particular tiger needed to be locked back down. He tried to shift back as un-awkwardly as possible given the circumstance, back away from the warm tempting ass in front of him. First you rescue the guy and now you grope him? Smooth, Winchester. Real smooth. Completely red faced from embarrassment over his body’s actions while he had slept, he muttered, “Sorry, Cas.”

He pulled his arm slowly, releasing his grip on his chest, fully intending to go back to his side of the bed, when Cas grabbed his wrist. The former angel practically shook as he growled out. “Don’t you dare stop.” He placed Dean’s had back over his heart.

Dean was helpless as he watched, mesmerized, over his shoulder as Cas took control, moving the hunter’s hand down even further. Soon his fingers were slipping underneath the band of Cas’, his, sweats. He groaned into Cas’ neck as he wrapped his hand around Cas’ erection. He was hard, so hard, and hot and heavy in his hand. Instinctively, Dean squeezed. “Are you sure, Cas?”

_“De-an.”_ Cas moaned out, thrusting into the hunter’s fist. “I- I’ve never…anything close.. _oooh._ ”

Dean grinned, unable to stop, and unable to deny his angel this. It was an awkward reach for his arm. The angel was still under the covers the Dean was laying on. With his thumb, Dean teased the tip, smearing the wetness there, before fisting the length tightly. Setting to a slow rhythm, he stroked Cas. He whispered to the man panting because of him, in between kissing his neck. “Let go, angel. Just let go. Come for me.”

Cas was a whimpering mess. His body was tense, aching for completion. Sweat beaded on his skin, dampening his borrowed shirt. He couldn’t catch a breath deep enough and his palms felt empty. He remedied that feeling by reaching back and grabbing at Dean’s hip, holding him closer. Cas felt the heat coming from Dean’s erection. He wanted him even closer. He wanted Dean _inside of him_. He wanted to be inside of his hunter. He wanted everything all at once. It was too much, this feeling.

Too soon, he was shouting his release, crying out into the dark motel room. “ _Dean!”_ He jerked, thrusting, coming over Dean’s fingers. Dean continued to stroke him through his orgasm. The whimpering noises he was making were going to remain permanently in his brain. Definitely a song he wanted stuck there.

Slowly he pulled his hand out from beneath the band of the dark sweats. They were now ruined, covered in the angels come. So was his hand. Dean groaned. All he wanted in that moment was to spread the angel beneath him and pound him into the mattress. He was already close to coming himself from just watching Cas, from hearing him call out his name. Shaking his head, Dean moved off the bed, walking over to the bathroom, knowing that his angel was watching him.

As much as he wanted Cas, he needed to cool off. Shutting the bathroom door closed behind him, Dean gave into temptation and licked at his hand. Just a taste, that’s all he wanted.

Once he stood beneath the cold spray of the motel shower, with it’s dismal water pressure, Dean was able to think again and not just act on primal instinct that demanded that he go back into the other room to claim Castiel as his. How unevolved was that?

“Just a friend giving another friend a hand. That’s all that was.” Dean muttered to himself. _Yeah? You give hand jobs to all your other friends?_ Dean shook his head and turned off the shower. He had just given his best friend a hand job. Jesus. He hadn’t even kissed the dude. _Yes, you did._ The annoying voice inside his head, which sounded similar to Charlie, added. “No,” Dean argued with himself, “ _future_ me did. I never kissed him.”

“Dean?” Cas’ voice called out from the other room. “Are you alright in there?”

Dean heart stuttered at the sound of his gravely voice. Wrapped in nothing but a towel, he stared at his reflection, leaning on the cracked sink counter. Future him had clearly come to terms with his feelings for Cas after he had died. But present Dean? Well he was trying to understand how that morning had happened. Sure he had the occasional wet dream of Castiel. More than occasional if he were honest with himself.

But to wake up grinding against him and have Cas respond like that? Well, that was out of his current comfort zone.

“Yeah, Cas. I’m fine,” he called out, straightening. Damn, he hadn’t brought in a change of clothes. Sighing, gearing up for a confrontation, Dean opened the bathroom door.

Cas sat on the edge of the bed, already changed into a pair of Dean’s jeans and a black AC/DC shirt. When he met Dean’s eyes, he blushed and gave a crooked grin. “Uh, good morning, Dean.”

_Yeah. Not awkward at all._

Dean nodded, not trusting any words that may or may not come out of his mouth in that moment. It wasn’t like he had had his hands down his best friend’s pants not thirty minutes ago or anything. Grabbing his duffle, he took it in to the bathroom to change.

Cas took his turn in the bathroom eventually. When they sat down to eat the cold food that Dean had bought earlier, neither made a move to speak. Dean was sure that Jiminy Cricket would be dancing through there any moment. Finally, Dean spoke as he stood to throw away the wrapping. “Well, we should probably head out soon.”

Cas looked up at him, eyes wide and swallowed the last of his meal. “Where are we headed? The bunker?”

“No.” Dean finally met the blue eyed gaze. Fuck the man was gorgeous. “We’re going after a prophet.”


	7. Chapter Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I was initially going to have this be the chapter that Chuck returns but I needed to address a few others things first. Don't worry have a plan for Chuck coming in. And for Dean coming out. (hehe)   
> Comments and kudos are always welcome.  
> Feel free to follow me on Twitter. Gabi@leftdrgnpaintr
> 
> Hugs! Gabi  
> <3<3<3

It wasn’t as simple as merely going out to find a prophet.

You had to actually _find_ him first.

There were several options that they could use while searching for Chuck. The simplest would be to simply call him to find out where he was currently. But Dean honestly didn’t want to give him the chance to run off before getting the chance to talk with him face to face. Plus there was a good chance that he wouldn’t even answer the call.

God had a tendency of ignoring those.

The next option would be making a call to Becky Rosen to get the information he needed. Dean suppressed a shiver of disgust. While the fangirl had always had good intentions, her intensity drove him bonkers. Plus he had the intrusive feeling that by calling her, she would consider it invitation to start stalking Sammy again. He still couldn’t believe that she had tricked his brother into a legal sham marriage.

The option he settled on was going on to the _Supernatural_ books fan sites to see if there had been any recent sightings of the elusive author, Carver Edlund. And if that didn’t pan out, _then_ Dean would give Chuck a call.

Anything to avoid talking to Becky, really.

Thankfully, it didn’t get that far. The first site he checked had a giant announcement page that _the_ Carver Edlund was going to be at some book signing in a few short days. Dean narrowed his eyes at the location. One state over, probably only a days’ drive at most, he thought. They could leave in the morning and still have a day to spare before confronting the author/prophet.

Or more correctly, according to Dean’s future self: God.

_Jesus_.

Dean rolled his eyes then went back to studying the site. Sometimes he really missed the days when all he had to worry about was how strong the witch was that they were fighting. Ah, the good ol’ days.

“I still don’t understand exactly why we need to find the prophet, Dean.” Cas handed the hunter a beer, before settling into the seat across from him at the small table in the motel room. Cas avoided any eye contact, as they both had been doing since that morning. His face warmed again in remembrance of Dean’s hand on his body, his breath on his skin, waking him in more ways than the former angel had thought possible. For centuries he had watched humans participate in sexual intercourse, wondering why each generation found the repetitious act so enthralling.

Now? Now, he understood.

He understood but he still had questions. Most of which he was certain that Dean would be uncomfortable answering. Was it always that intense? Was it better or worse if the other person participated? Would Dean want him to reciprocate? Cas felt that he would have no problem with that, and more, if Dean wished that of him. From the way that Dean had left the bed that morning convinced Cas to leave those queries for another time.

Dean glanced up from the laptop, staring at the former angel for several moments before speaking. He had been debating, arguing with himself from almost the moment he had found Cas whether or not to fill him in on the fact that Chuck was God or to keep the info to himself. But experience taught him the hard way that their secrets brought nothing but apocalyptic problems to the world.

Licking his lips, he leaned back, not noticing that Cas’ eyes followed his tongue’s movement. “We need to find Chuck because he’s the only one who can help at this point.”

“But how Dean? I was under the impression that he had lost his ‘mojo’ as you say.” Dean smiled softly at his friend’s use of air quotes. “How would an impotent prophet help?”

Dean choked, snorting at Cas’ choice of phrase. “Uh, you’re definitely going to regret that word choice once I tell you this, man.” Dean paused to take a swig from the beer. Rubbing the back of his neck, he decided to dive right in. “Chuck is, well. Chuck is God.”

Silence.

Castiel blinked.

Dean shifted uncomfortably in his chair as he waited for the former angel to say anything. He didn’t have to wait long before Cas stood back from the table, slamming his palms down. “ _What!?”_

For the first time in a long time Dean saw the warrior soldier he had met in the barn oh so long ago. Danger sparked through the air around him, human form notwithstanding. This was the warrior who had stood up to all of Heaven and Hell multiple times. The angel who had protected the Winchesters, pulled Dean from perdition. Dean swallowed, and shifted in the seat again, willing his sudden erection away.

“Yeah. According to the other me, Chuck was the one who sent him back to stop…” Dean cut off his own words. He hadn’t told Cas yet that he was supposed to have died. He stood and paced across the room, avoiding Cas’ gaze.

Cas was having none of it though. He grabbed the hunter’s arm, turning to face him. “To stop what exactly, Dean?”

Dean eyes dropped to his chapped lips then back up to his sky blue eyes. “To stop you from dying Cas.”

He narrowed his eyes. “You can’t change the past, Dean.”

“Apparently Chuck said otherwise and sent the other me back. Something about you weren’t supposed to die. And I know me, if _anyone_ had said that they could bring you back from the dead…” Dean shook his head, and looked away. He could feel the heat rising in his face, coloring his cheeks.

Cas studied him. There was so much that Dean wasn’t saying. An undercurrent that was always between them seemed to tighten and break. Cas took a deep breath as he realized something rather important.

The other Dean had been telling the truth.

But this Dean… This Dean was afraid of admitting it, to Cas and to himself. Cas rolled his eyes, sighing. He wanted to give into the urge and kiss the hunter. But now wasn’t the time. Waving a hand to the laptop, he spoke gravely. “Fine. Where do we find Chuck?”

*****

They ended up staying at the motel for one more night. Dean had sent a text to Sam, lying to him that he was still working the case and not to worry, that he could handle it. Dean felt bad about lying to his brother, but with Gadreel inhabiting his body, Dean felt that he had no choice.

The next morning as the sun rose they woke. It went without incident, no repeat performance of hand jobs and moaning angels. Dean had taken it upon himself to sleep on the floor, keeping himself away from temptation. He laughed. Tempted by an angel. Who’da thunk it? He always thought that temptation would be evil, but the goodness that was Castiel drew him and always had.

Though he was sore from sleeping on the hard floor Dean spent the next thirteen hours behind the wheel. They stopped a few times for food and fuel. By the time they pulled into the parking lot of the motel, night had already begun to set in the sky, painting it beautifully in pink, lavender and blue.

Dean checked them in, wondering what Cas was thinking in the moment. Tonight was the night when he was supposed to have died. Will have died? Will die? Frigging time travel tenses. If Dean was him, he’d be nervous as heck that that bitch Fate wouldn’t find him again. Will find him? Whatever.

Cas was waiting for him next to the Impala, already having grabbed the bags from the trunk. He smiled at the hunter’s approach. Dean cleared his throat. And lied. “Got the last room. Looks like we’ll be bunking again, buddy.”

Cas narrowed his eyes then looked around the empty parking lot. He arched a brow, knowing full well that Dean was fibbing, but decided against calling him on it. That didn’t mean that he couldn’t enjoy making the hunter squirm a bit. “I have no problem sleeping with you, Dean. If that’s what you’re implying.”

Dean sucked in a breath as his heart beat sped up. He cleared his throat, coughing a little as he choked out. “Right. Uh. Well. Big day tomorrow, so…”

He waved to the room and stomped off, leaving Cas to trail behind.


	8. Chapter Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos keep me writing guys! (I don't have much else in my life to look forward to. #adulting)  
> If you guys think of any tags I should add to this drop a line :)
> 
> Gabi  
> <3<3<3

Cas knew that Dean wasn’t sleeping. Despite how methodically he was forcing his deep breaths to continue, they were too even. He rolled over to his back. The blankets shifted, pulling tighter between their bodies. “Dean. We need to talk.”

The hunter stiffened at the sound of the deep voice next to him. The voice that always sent chills down his spine. Swallowing, he asked. “About what, Cas?”

“The other morning.”

_Shit._ Of course Cas would bring this up in the dark of night when Dean was far more vunerable and amiable to the discussion. Swallowing his pride, he choked out, “Listen Cas. I’m sorry about that. Really I am. I shouldn’t have taken advantage of you like that.” Dean said. A frown pulled his brow downward. He may be sorry but hell if he was regretting it. Hearing, _feeling,_ Cas moan like he had because of what Dean had been doing, would get him through the next ten years of spank bank material. At least.

“I’m not.” Cas spoke barely above a whisper. He turned to meet Dean’s gaze.

“What?” Confused, Dean rolled to his side facing the man beside him. Perhaps he had heard him wrong. His heart began to race.

“I’m not sorry. I’m glad it happened. I’m just sorry that you feel that way.” Cas sighed, a disappointed look passed over his face as he turned back to stare at the ceiling. His fingers played with the thin material of the blanket atop them. Now that Cas was human he knew that emotions and feelings would be multiplied more than he had ever experienced, and that included his pull towards the Righteous Man. Considering how strong their profound bond was when he was an angel, he hadn’t expected to feel this… desire, longing, whatever it was, to be as deep as it was now for the man.

But clearly it was one sided.

He jumped when the tips of Dean’s fingers brushed his jaw. He barely touched him but it was enough to entice Cas to turn his head. What he saw in Dean’s eyes threw him considering what they had been just discussing.

“Cas,” Dean whispered, still cupping the man’s unshaven face. He ran his thumb across his bottom lip. “Don’t get me wrong. I want you. But you know how I am when it comes to things like this. Emotions,” he clarified with a small shake of his head.

Cas’ mouth had dropped open at Dean’s admission. He rolled to his side, mirroring Dean. But still he managed to get out, “You still think you don’t deserve to be happy. After all this time, I would have thought you had grown past that.”

“Cas,” Dean whispered.

Cas slipped his hand over Dean’s waist, inching closer. “You deserve to be happy Dean.”

“We both do, Cas.” Dean leaned forward and finally captured his angel’s mouth. It was soft at first, just a pressing of the lips. Castiel’s jaw was still cradled in his palm as he slowly kissed him. It was probably the tamest kiss of his life, but, oh, so good. The pressure of lips meeting lips, the scrap of beard shadow against stubble drew them both in deeper than they were expecting. Cas’ hand griped tighter on his hip, shifting closer.

Much to Dean’s surprise it was Cas that pulled away first, not without placing a quick peck on his lips again. “We should rest Dean. We will be speaking with God tomorrow after all.”

Dean laughed softly, meeting Cas’ forehead with his own. “Christ. How did our lives turn into us hunting down God?”

“It wouldn’t be the first time.” Cas reminded him gently. Kissing him once more, he again said, “Rest Dean.”

They fell asleep still entwined together, neither wanting to break what had happened between them that night.

*****

The next day they pulled into the plaza’s parking lot. The comic shop didn’t look all that busy considering there was a book signing going on. Though to be fair the _Supernatural_ series wasn’t that big of a draw.

Putting Baby into park, then turning off the engine, Dean turned to his passenger. “Ready to talk to your Dad again Cas?”

“I’ve never spoken to him Dean. Not knowingly at least.” Cas responded sourly, recalling how he had been with Chuck moments before Raphael destroyed him the first time.

“Trust me, I get it Cas. But we have to talk with him about Sam’s situation, reopening Heaven. Metatron. We can be angry with him later. Okay?” Reaching out he settled his hand over Cas’ shoulder. Cupping his chin with the other hand, forced Cas to turn his head. “Hey, look at me.”

Cas lifted his blue eyes.

“I get it alright. Absentee Dad, expecting blind obedience from his soldier son? Yeah I get it. But please for Sam’s sake, can we get through this?” Dean’s gaze pierced him. it hadn’t been a demand but a request, a hope that they get through this without wigging out. They needed Chuck’s help with the Sam-Gadreel situation. Dean doubted that removing the angel from his brother willingly was going to happen, not without Gadreel leaving Sam dead.

“Of course Dean. For Sam’s sake.” Cas nodded then leaned in for a quick kiss that left Dean stunned. He still wasn’t used to that, the open affection, freely given. But damn if it didn’t feel great.

When they walked into the shop, they paused. There was no line of middle aged guys dressed like Sam and Dean this time. There was barely anyone in the store; just a bored man reading a thick comic book behind the counter, and a few browsers amongst the shelves. Chuck was nowhere in sight.

Dean cleared his throat, frowning as he approached the clerk. “Uh, hi there. Isn’t there supposed to be a book signing today? For Carver Edlund?”

The clerk’s head snapped up, his second chin jiggling. He blinked in surprise at the two jock looking men standing in front of him. “Wow. I didn’t think anybody was going to show for that in all honesty. Come on back.” He set down the comic and starting walking toward the back room of the store.

Dean arched a brow to Cas as they passed an abandoned table with a few of the Carver Edlund series scattered across it. A medium sized marquee of Chuck holding one of his books stood behind. Dean snorted and Cas merely glared.

The clerk opened the door to the back room and gestured for the men to go on through. “Mr. Edlund is in there with his publisher,” he said with a bored shrug before making his way back to his graphic novel.

The pair shot each other a disbelieving glance before walking through. Their hunters instincts kicked in when a painful groaning came from behind a shelving unit, followed by the crash of boxes falling. Dean drew his gun and raced around the corner of the shelf, ready to defend Chuck against whenever monster he had come across.

He froze at what he saw.

And blushed like he had never blushed before.

Chuck was pressed back against the wall, pants down, while his obviously male publisher was going to town on his cock.

Oh god. God was getting a blow job. From a guy. What the fuck? And why was Dean still watching?

Dean must have made some sort of noise because Chuck’s eyes blinked open. “Uh, Dean? Could you give me a few minutes to finish here?”

Blinking, Dean looked away, muttering. He shoved Cas back out through the door, deciding that waiting in the main part of the store would be safer.

“Was Chuck just…?” Cas’ question trailed off.

“Yeah. He was.” Dean said. His mind was racing, with no thoughts settling to form full on conclusions to process what he had just witnessed. If he had merely walked in on Chuck Shurley, drunk and poor writer getting head, Dean would have laughed it off. But he knew that Chuck was capital G-O-D.

“Dean. Cas. Good to see you. What brings you here?” Chuck asked, relaxed, as he walked back out into the comic shop. The other man, bearded and fairly good looking came out of the room behind him, shit eating grin on his face.

Dean glared at the other man before looking down at Chuck. “We need to talk. Alone.”

“Oh? About what?” Chuck twitched, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Gadreel.” Dean said simply, arching one brow.


	9. Chapter Nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Small chapter, kinda filler, but a chapter nonetheless.  
> Comments and kudos and yada yada  
> Gabi  
> <3<3<3

The shift in Chuck’s demeanor was visceral. Tension filled the room making the browser’s turn their way, frightened by the energy emanating around the room before leaving the store. The change in the air around them was evident, seeming to crackle with unseen lightning. Chuck straightened, fists clenching at his sides. Chuck’s publisher stepped forward and asked, curious. “What’s a Gadreel?”

“Jordan. Leave us.” Chuck clipped out, no longer maintaining the persona of Chuck Shurley. Turning he walked back into the storage room of the comic shop, knowing that Dean and Castiel would be quick to follow. Once they were alone, Chuck turned to Dean and asked him –demanded- point blank. “Where did you hear that name? How do you know that name?”

“Oh I know a lot of things there, Chuckie.” Dean immediately regretted his instinctive sass when Chuck’s gaze narrowed. “Sorry, God. Sorry.” Dean ran a hand over his mouth as a late prevention to cease speaking.

Cas rolled his eyes beside the hunter. This wasn’t going well. At all.

“So it seems that you know who I am. Dean, how is it you know these things?” Chuck repeated calmly. He could see that his favorite was panicking. It wasn’t unexpected given the circumstances. Somehow Dean knew who He was, the question was how. “I’m not mad, just explain. I’m still the same old Chuck you know. Talk to me.”

“No you’re not, not really. Fine.” Dean dragged his hand down his face. “Last night Cas was supposed to die. And he did die. Six months from now you found me drowning in a bottle of whiskey and sent me back to stop it but not before finding out that some angel named Gadreel, who I thought was Ezekiel, was possessing Sammy after the angels were kicked out of a now-closed Heaven.” Dean rushed out with barely a full breath. If it had been any one other than God that Dean was trying to explain the situation to, they wouldn’t have been able to follow it. But considering that it was God, Dean was pretty sure that everything got across.

At least he hoped so.

“But you aren’t six months from now you.” Chuck squinted and tilted his head, studying the Righteous Man. Good to know that move was hereditary from Father to angels. “What happened to that version of you?”

“Uh, yeah. That me, uh, that me, uh, killed himself.” Dean muttered, his face turning a deep shade of red.

“You’ve really got to stop with all that self-sacrificing you Winchester’s do, you know. From a literary standpoint, it gets a bit repetitive.” He chided. “Time travel though, classic without being too overdone. And if I was the one behind it, that means that the general rules of time travel tropes could be tossed out the window.” Chuck chuckled, and scratched at his beard. He looked over to Castiel, squinting. “Good to see that you’re still alive and kicking Castiel. Though it seems that you’ve lost your Grace.”

“My Grace was taken from me as Metatron’s final ingredient for the spell to close the gates of heaven and send my brothers and sisters to earth.” Cas’ once inhuman ability to remain stoic in the face of greatness was gone now that he was human. He kept his eyes lowered, unable to meet the drunk slash writer slash prophet slash God’s eyes. As mad as he was at his absentee Father, he knew he was probably one of His biggest disappointments. It shamed him that he had failed so many with his actions.

“Metatron, huh?” Chuck said considering. He thought for several moments, periodically eyeing them both. “Okay, first things first. We are going to help Sam. I’m fairly certain that I can _persuade_ , shall we say, Gadreel to vacate Sam’s vessel. It seems that your brother tends to attract my angels more than any other human currently in existence. Lucifer, Gabriel, Gadreel. Hell, even Metatron probably would want in on that action if he could.”

“Gabriel…? What does he…?” Dean’s face twisted in confusion.

Ignoring him, Chuck continued. “Tell you what, why don’t I snap us back to wherever it is that you're staying and we can begin to sort this out, hmm?” Raising His hand to snap His fingers, He was startled when Dean shouted out “No!”

“No, Dean? I thought that you came for my help.” Chuck eyed the hunter, bemused.

Chagrinned, Dean rubbed the back of his neck. Castiel looked from the hunter, knowing where it was that his thoughts lay, then back to his Father. “I believe that Dean would rather not startle Sam was a sudden appearance. It might shock Gadreel into harming him. I also understand that Sam was unaware of Dean’s intent to rescue me.”

“I wasn’t _rescuing_ you, man. Just…bringing you home.” Dean avoided looking at his angel as he admitted this. As though eye contact would make it any less awkward for the hunter.

Chuck merely grinned. “Fine. As you wish. So how do we all feel about a road trip instead?”

Dean’s eyes rose to the prophet-not-prophet. A road trip with God? He swallowed. Of all the bizarre things that had happened in his life, that would be a first.

*****    

The drive back to Lebanon was … _special._ Castiel had started to claim the back seat as he normally did when there were three or more passengers in the Impala, but was redirected by Chuck, who decided he wanted to sleep. When he was awake he complained about Dean’s music choices and ‘requested’ that Dean switch the radio over to the pop station. Dean’s hands clenched the steering wheel, he couldn’t very well refuse God, could he?

Then an old Britney Spears came on. Dean angrily turned it off. “No. No bubble gum pop crap in my car. Sorry Chuckie, but just no. Car rules apply. Driver picks the music and shotguns shut their cakeholes’.”

Cas smirked.

Chuck grinned, and stretched in the confines of the back seat. “I was wondering how long that was going to take Dean. Tell me, if I had been anyone else sitting back here, would you have allowed them to pick the music? Like when Castiel sits back here. Do you ever let him choose music?”

“No. I don’t.” Dean admitted. He glanced at his friend sitting quietly next to him. “But he doesn’t really know anything about music, or modern culture in general.”

Cas nodded slightly. “It’s true. I very rarely understand a reference. Though to be fair, Dean makes several different ones an hour.”

“Hey!”

Chuck laughed in the back seat at the teasing between the two men. “Perhaps I can help with that.” Reaching forward He placed a hand on the back of Castiel’s head.

Castiel gasped as he became overwhelmed with knowledge. Movies, music, literature, comics, television, art, everything all at once came as a tidal wave rushing through him, nearly drowning him with the weight. Dean threw him a concerned glance, his brow furrowing. “You okay there, Short Round?”

“Yes, Dean. I am fine. But as I am not your sidekick and you are not an archaeologist I would suggest abandoning that sobriquet.” Cas rubbed his forehead, soothing the headache he developed with the input of information.

Dean glanced over his shoulder at Chuck, who had his eyes closed with a small grin lifting his beard. “Huh. So what? Now you’ll get my references?”

“So it would seem, Dean.”

Focusing back on the road, Dean shifted a bit. The headlights of baby shone on a sign indicating another 200 miles until they were back in Lebanon.

If it were up to Dean, they couldn’t get back to the bunker fast enough.


	10. Chapter Ten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's been forever.  
> Comments and kudos and the usual...
> 
> Also I may have been listening to Jensen singing Simple Man while writing this chapter.  
> Gabi  
> <3<3<3

Almost four hours later Dean pulled baby into the garage of the bunker. It was late, and even though Cas had taken a turn driving so Dean could rest for a bit, he was still exhausted. He cut the engine, the void of it’s roar left an echoing silence.

“So, what’s the plan then?” Chuck popped his head between the two men on the front seat. “Did you have a plan on telling Sam or is this another classic Winchester fly by the seat of your pants thing?”

“Let me ask you, when have our plans ever actually worked for us without making things worse?” Dean growled. The situation ahead of him was making him tense. Even though… _God_ was there, it didn’t make him any less apprehensive about what they would be walking into. He just wanted Sammy safe. “Nevermind. Let’s go.”

“Flying by our pants then.” Chuck chuckled as he got out of the back seat.

The bunker was quiet as they made their way through the tiled hallways. Castiel and Chuck followed closely behind Dean as he searched for his younger brother. Chuck could be heard speaking softly. “These Men of Letters really had a thing for tile, huh?”

Entering the war room, Dean called out. “Sammy! Kevin! I’m back!”

They found Kevin sitting in the library, headphones on and looking haggard, surrounded by papers scribbled with long-dead languages. The boy jumped a foot in his seat when he noticed the three men standing across the table from him. He glared at the older Winchester. “Great. So it isn’t bad enough I have massive anxiety living under the same roof as the King of Hell, but now you decide to scare me enough to have a heart attack. Stop sneaking up on me, Winchester!”

Dean smirked at the kid. He was far too wound up. He playfully pulled the headphones off the former student. “I did call out. You just didn’t hear me.”

“Whatever. Hey.” Kevin nodded a hello to Castiel standing slightly too close to Dean. But the sight wasn’t that unusual. He then turned a questioning eye to the other bearded man. “Who’s that?”

“That’s Chuck. He’s a, uh…” Dean turned around, glancing at him. How would he explain Chuck? Out of everyone in the room, Kevin was probably the angriest at God. At the moment anyway. Dean frowned, unsure of how to even begin to describe the once-prophet but actually-God to Kevin.

“I’m a very old friend.” Chuck smiled, shaking Kevin’s hand with both of His.

“Hey, Kev? Where’s Sam?” Dean asked. He was nervous as hell about how this was all going to play out.

“Last I knew, he was sleeping.” Kevin jerked his head in the direction of the bedroom hallway.

Dean nodded. “I’ll go get him.”

Leaving them, Dean made his way to his brother’s room. He entered after knocking and hearing the coughing _“Come in,_ ” from Sam. He wore his usual pajama bottoms, grey and comfy with a t-shirt that was wet with perspiration. The dark circles under his eyes weren’t any different than how they were when Dean had left the week before. He wasn’t getting any better. Dean frowned.

“Hey. How you feeling man?”

“I’m fine, Dean. Really.” It was a lie. They both knew it, and both chose to ignore it for now. Sam sat up, and leaned against the headboard. He sighed with exhaustion.

Considering that Dean had once witnessed him fight off a nest of vamps before without getting winded, the condition his brother now was in made his chest ache. “Well, if you’re feeling up to it, I brought you something. It’s in the library though. So up and at ‘em.”

He waited for Sam to stand. Noticing his shivering, Dean instinctively wrapped the blanket over his baby brother’s stooped shoulders. Sam shot him a look. “You’re being nice. What gives?” he asked as they made their way slowly down the hallway.

“What can I say? I’m a nice guy.” Dean answered sarcastically.

Sam scoffed. When they entered the room that housed the Men of Letters books, Sam froze when he saw Dean’s surprise. Despite the unexpected but welcome guests, he smiled widely. “Cas? Chuck? What…What are you doing here?”

The former angel smiled at the younger Winchester. “Hello, Sam.”

Chuck however stepped forward. Taking Sam’s hands in His, He said, “I’m sorry, Sam but this might hurt just a bit.”

Chuck laid a hand on Sam’s forehead, similar to how Cas would smite. Bright white light filled the room, Sam’s shout of pain mingled with Dean’s one of surprise.

When the light cleared, Sam was crumpled on the floor and Chuck was gone. Dean rushed to his brother’s side. Helping him up, he asked. “Sam? You okay?”

Standing, Sam ran a hand through his hair. The dark circles under his eyes were gone, his cheeks flush with health. Even his hair was bouncier. He took a deep breath, in a way he hadn’t been able to since before undergoing the trails. He nodded, looking around. “Yeah. Yeah I think I am. What was that? What happened? Where’s Chuck? Was that Chuck?”

Dean could have sobbed his relief. –Though a single, stray tear managed to leak out. – His brother was back. Chuck had managed to erase and reverse the effects of the trails. “You want the long version or the short version?”

“Dean…” The warning tone in his voice made the older hunter sigh.

“Fine.” Dean proceeded to explain everything from the moment his future self appeared to finding Cas. He included what had happened in the alternate version he had been told by the other Dean. He left out what had been going on with Cas and himself, that information was just for them at the moment. By the time he revealed what had just happened with Chuck expelling Gadreel, Sam could only stare in openmouthed disbelief.

“Chuck is God?”

Dean nodded.

“And you let some angel possess me?”

Ashamed, Dean bobbed his head again. “I did it to save you Sammy.”

“Dammit Dean. I was ready to die!” Sam shouted angrily.

“You know what Sammy? If I had to do it all again, I’d do it the same.” Dean argued back.

“I wouldn’t be too hard on him, if I were you, Sam. Dean did what he did out of love.” Chuck reappeared next to the hunters, and placed a calming hand on Sam’s shoulder. With the touch, the anger he felt was wiped away, leaving behind the truth that Dean had done what he felt he had to. Beside Chuck stood another man that Dean recognized as Ezekiel’s -Gadreel’s- first vessel.

“What’s he doing here?” Dean practically growled out.

“I’ve decided that Gadreel here will be my little helper in re-opening Heaven. Metatron needs to be taken care of.” Chuck said.

Castiel’s eyes widened. “The gates can be opened again? My brother’s and sister’s can return home?”

“Eventually, yes. And what about you Castiel? Do you not wish to return as well?” Chuck asked knowingly, looking between the rebel angel and Dean.

Dean looked away, frowning, not wanting to see Cas’ face when he decided to return to Heaven. Just because they may have had a few moments over the past week didn’t mean anything. He might be in… _care for_ the angel, wingless or not, it didn’t guarantee that Cas wouldn’t choose his former life. The life he had had before the Winchester’s entered it. Before Dean had entered it.

Cas’ deep voice surprised him.

“No. I wish to remain. To age. To be human. I failed as an angel. As a human I could be nothing more than a simple kind of man.” Cas cast a glance to Dean, meeting his wide, green eyes. “I wish to stay and help Dean, and Sam, as long as I am able.”

Chuck smiled. “Castiel. I know that you feel that you were a failure. You weren’t. Not to me. Never forget that.”

With a snap of His fingers, Chuck and Gadreel were gone.

“So, does this mean I don’t have to keep translating?” Kevin asked from across the room.

**Author's Note:**

> So after much consideration I've decided to leave this story where it is. Headcanon away for yourselves. Thanks everyone for the comments and kudos and kicks in the pants I needed on this.   
> Feel free to talk to me on Tumblr under the same handle.  
> Kisses!  
> Gabi  
> <3<3<3


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